The Betting Pool
by Monny287
Summary: Challenge fic. The faculty of Hogwarts have had enough. Harry and Hermione are driving them insane, and so a betting pool is dug up from the mind of Albus Dumbledore. Hilarity insues. HHr.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything,

A/N: Challenge fic to "The Betting Pool" posted by **Jayu **on Portkey.

"This is getting ridiculous! Just get together already!" McGonagall dropped her fork and looked dismally at her scrambled eggs. "I swear, if I have to teach one more class with those two making goo-goo eyes at each other, I will shove them into the nearest broom closet myself!" All of the teachers at the table turned to look at her. This was a rare occurrence; it wasn't often Minerva McGonagall invested her time into the romantic escapades of her students.

"I know how you feel, Minerva," Professor Snape said bitterly. "Every class, its always the same. I'm surprised Weasley doesn't notice."

"Notice what?" Albus asked, joining the conversation.

"How Harry and Hermione have been driving the entire faculty insane," Snape looked sullenly at his oatmeal, stirring the thick substance absently. "I agree with Minerva; shove those two into a broom closet and get it over with. It's not as if they'll admit their feelings to each other anyway."

"I think they will, eventually," Firenze broke, looking down the table from his place at the end (it had been hard to accommodate the table for a centaur, but eventually, it had been done, much to the pride of all parties). "While I do not know Ms. Granger very well, from what Harry Potter keeps seeing in his smoke signs, he is quite in love with the girl."

"Smoke signs?" Snape scoffed. "Bit hazy prediction, don't you think?"

"I will admit, when I first saw his, I was a bit baffled, and wondered if he had performed the spell wrong," Firenze said, "But time after time, the only sign he gets in his smoke is an otter."

"An otter? What's that have to with Hermione?" asked Snape incredulously.

"An otter is the form Hermione's Patronus takes, apparently," Firenze said, chewing a bit on a root of some sort; he had declined the house elves offerings of toast and eggs, preffering what could be found in the forest, "Or at least, that's what Mr. Potter said when he saw it."

"Really? Interesting….." Albus said, scratching his beard thoughtfully, with a mischievous glint in his merry blue eyes.

"What's that look for?" Minerva glanced at her colleague warily; that look was almost never a good thing.

"I think it would be wise to channel our frustrations into a more interesting outlet,' he said, much to the confusion of the teachers.

"What do you mean by 'more interesting outlet'?" Minerva asked, afraid to find out what is meant.

"Nothing bad, Professor, nothing bad. All I'm doing is starting a betting pool,"

"Albus! A betting pool? Really! Do you think that is really proper? Betting on the love lives on our students?"

"Well, we have to get our kicks in somehow," Snape said, taking out his wallet.

"I'm in," Hagrid agreed, as did many of the other teachers.

"I'm not," Minerva said firmly, despite the conjoling of the teachers. "It is not right to bet on our students."

"But didn't you say they were driving you insane?" one asked.

"Well…yes…but that still doesn't make it right," she said, though she could feel her defenses weakening. They _were_ driving her insane, and any way to get back at Albus for beating her out of five-hundred galleons concerning another Mr. Potter was good.

"Fine, I'm in," she muttered, taking out a small bag of gold.

"Good," Albus said, writing down names and taking wagers. "Now, let's set down some rules for this betting pool." The teachers nodded in agreement.

"Under no circumstances are you to shove them into a broom closet," he said, chuckling. "Or 'help' them in any way, though slight nudging is permittable. No bet shall exceed one hundred galleons, for counting's sake. The betting will end when one teacher's theory on how the two shall be united either becomes reality, or comes really close. Is that clear?" The teachers nodded in agreement.

"Good. Let the betting begin," he said, passing the parchment around so each teacher could add their theory.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. owns all.

A/N: Hey, I know this chapter's rather short, but I'm suffering from a bad case of writer's block. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Read and review!

Although, as a rule, Severus Snape did not condone foolishness, he couldn't help but indulge just this once. Besides, he'd had the couple for years; he assumed he knew them well enough. Well enough, that is, to say that Harry would confess his feelings during the Christmas holidays. So very much like his father, that boy. Snape was reminded bitterly of his seventh year Potions class, the one he…_unfortunately_ shared with James Potter himself and the object of his affection; obsession rather, Lily Evans. He'd spent half the class staring at her, Snape was surprised he didn't kill the entire class. And now, here he was, twenty years later, with a different Potter but the same predicament. However, this time, Snape's nerves would not be tested. At least, not if he could help it.

He looked out on his first afternoon class with a strange excitement. He wasn't, technically, supposed to help, but who could tell a nudge from a push? With that thought, a small smile (though since the days of his youth, it was more of leer than a smile. A smile would have caused his whole class to faint, and then where would he be?) graced his lips as he regarded the couple in question, sitting in the front row, by Hermione's choice. While she was looking raptly at him, as usual, he noticed Harry was staring intently at her, as usual. It nearly made him sick most times. However, today was different.

"Today, we will be working on the Draft of Neverending Sleep," he said, amazed at how droning his voice could sound. He didn't blame some of his students for falling asleep (though that didn't stop him from docking points. After all, what fun is there in being a teacher besides that?) "If you recall from last class, it causes the drinker to fall into a deep coma, where he is plagued by his worst nightmares and memories until his mind shuts down from too much stimuli." Harry involuntarily shuddered, and Snape noticed Hermione placed a comforting hand on his arm; Harry immediately calmed. The Potions master found the scene sweet and sickening at the same time. Perhaps it was because he had never found love that he had no tolerance for it. But that didn't matter at the moment. While the plan was still half baked, he implemented it.

"Split up into partner teams!" he bellowed to his students. Ron immediately moved to be with Hermione; he was such a dunce at Potions.

"No, Weasley, I thought I'd have you work with Longbottom today," he said, gesturing towards the latter with a wave of his hand. "Potter and Granger shall work together today." Ron looked disappointed, but did as he was asked and slunk over to the next table where Neville was sitting, looking nervous, for his potion, which should have been clear, was a sickening shade of brown, with the consistency of mud. Snape heard the Granger girl tisk disapprovingly. He turned to look at the couple in question.

"Professor, I had some quest—" Hermione began. Snape held up a hand.

"You two will not be brewing the Draught of Neverending Sleep today, Miss Granger, so you needn't worry," he said, rather placidly, he realized. When had he become so dull? "You two, rather, will be brewing a rather special potion to be demonstrated in one of the lower level classes later today. You will be graded on how effective the potion is."

"But how will we test it?" Harry asked, looking nervous. Snape didn't blame him. Harry had not had the best of run-ins with his Shrinking Potion the week before, and he had grown to the size of the room before Madam Pomfrey ran into the room, administering admonitions as she did so.

"You'll be testing it out on each other, and so I expect there will be no mistakes," he said coolly. "For, I must mention, if brewed improperly, can poison the drinker." And with that cheerful note, he left the two to slice ingredients. He had to admit, they were a cute couple, and it was all he could do from just shoving them into his supply room and leaving them there for a few hours….days…depending on how long it took.

"Really Severus," he heard a soft voice call from the doorway. "Must you scare them like that?"

"Scare who like what?" he asked, trying his best to feign innocence, but was not successful. The best innocent look he achieved was somewhere between a pout and a grimace, and he was sure that if Minerva had not been preoccupied, she would have laughed histerically.

"You know who I'm talking about," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "And since when are love potions part of the syllabus?"

"It's not even really a love potion, much at all," he said, holding his palms out in front of him. "But is a certain raven-haired boy just _happens_ to be feeling a little bold later on tonight, how bad is that?"

"Very bad. What was it you said about brewing it wrong?"

"Just a minor white lie. I wanted them to brew it so it works to it's utmost potential, and knowing Potter, something was bound to go wrong,"

"Severus! I'm surprised at you!"

"What?"

"Playing off student's weaknesses for a bet is not fair!"

"Life isn't fair. Do you want them to keep driving the faculty to the mental ward in Azkaban?" she shook her head.

"Didn't think so. Don't worry, by tonight, everything will be in place, and that jackpot will be mine,"

"I don't think you give those two enough credit," she said. "With them working together, they're bound to notice at some point that they're brewing a love potion. And since you asked them to test it out on themselves…mark my words, Severus, it will backfire,"

"Just you watch,"

"I will, don't worry,"

Snape had to admit, after she left, that his plan _was _seriously flawed, as he found out a moment later.

"Professor," came the insessent voice of Hermione Granger. "I have a question about this potion."

"Yes?"

"Well, I've been looking over the ingredients and have found several key ingredients found in popular love potions. We aren't making a love potion are we, Professor?" Snape flipped through the book he'd found the potion in, sweating bullets. Why could nothing he do go right? Such is the plight of the cursed.

"Really? Why, so it is," he said, flushing slightly. "I must have neglected to read the title when I assigned it to you. No matter; I still expect that potion on my desk at the end of class, if you don't mind."

"Do we still have to test it out on each other?" came the squeaky voice of Harry.

"No," said Snape bitterly. "You don't have to test them on yourselves. Get back to work." He slunk back to his desk with his tail between his legs as Minerva chuckled quietly to herself in the hallway. Harry and Hermione, while looking slightly flustered at the awkwardness of the situation, went back to work on the potion, not looking at one another.

_The next morning at breakfast…_

"Curse those two into oblivion!" groaned Snape as he had to watch those two be all "lovey dovey" as Lavender Brown had put it.

"Well, to be fair, it was a pretty transparent plan, Severus," Flitwick said, helping himself to more juice. "Really…a love potion? You did realize you were dealing with Hermione Granger, right?" Snape shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth and said nothing.

"Well, onto plan B," said Sprout, rubbing her hands together. She had the two of them in the same class later that morning and couldn't wait. She just loved playing matchmaker; she sincerely hoped that this relationship turned out much better than the other ones she had matched. Poor Susan Bones was still crying.


End file.
